


Save us from the Superstitions of Stubborn Dwarves!

by Nonia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 5+1 Things, Durin Family, Dwarf Culture, Gen, Superstitions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonia/pseuds/Nonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because they're superstitions, does not mean they're wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save us from the Superstitions of Stubborn Dwarves!

**Author's Note:**

> In response to the The Hobbit kink-meme prompt: 
> 
> In the book, Gandalf says that he picked a fourteenth member for the company, and that if Thorin doesn't like Bilbo he can just go on with an unlucky thirteen. And that settled it for Thorin. He'll take the squishy hobbit along as long as it means they're not 13.
> 
> So maybe 5 times Thorin was a bit of a superstitious nut, and one time he was right-so-right-didn't-I-tell-you?!
> 
> Bonus for dwarvish superstitions not just the usual black cat stuff.  
> Also, I'm a big Fili/Kili fan, so if they make an appearance, even in the background I'll be super excited.  
> Mega-bonus for some Bifur love.

**_  
1\. Once begun Thirteen, never ends Thirteen_ **

Gandalf carefully avoided glancing towards Thorin as they set off on the morning after they had gathered at Bag End. Their burglar had rejected the contract and Thorin was livid. They were setting out with Thirteen members, something that bothered Thorin greatly; far more than the fact that they had no burglar. 

Fili and Kili seemed to find it hilarious, wisely deciding to keep their heckling to themselves as Thorin seemed to almost wish for someone to provoke him in order to lash out; grins and amused expressions carefully masked whenever the King glanced their way. Every sound and movement caused the mighty King to tense in conviction that it was the herald to the string of bad luck surely to follow them due to the lack of a Fourteenth member. 

Gandalf and Balin shared a look as Balin urged his pony closer to Thorin’s and tried again, “Laddie, you said yourself this lot was more worthy than any army, for they came whence you called. One little hobbit will not make a difference.”

Thorin bristled, “Thirteen, Balin, Thirteen! Ever have our forefathers warned of this number! Do you not see? We cannot let anything come in the way of our quest! Ill start this is! I fear what it may spell for the end!”

Just then they heard a voice call out, “Wait! Wait!” and as they all stopped and turned to stare, the Hobbit ran to them waving the contract and proclaiming, “I signed it!” 

Balin took the contract and made a show of checking the signature, just for Thorin’s benefit, before nodding in satisfaction and giving Thorin a look as he announced that everything was in order and welcomed Bilbo Baggins to their company. 

Thorin simply scowled and grudgingly ordered, “Give him a pony.”

 

**_  
2\. A path led by a hammer upside down, is a Dwarf lying in the ground._ **

Their journey took them to a path where two roads diverged in a yellow wood. Thorin, stared at both, before conceding that he needed counsel on which path to take. 

They gathered around the maps even though it was quite obvious that one was much well-travelled than the other and therefore would take them through the forest much faster than the road obviously less travelled by. 

Bilbo noted that this setback seemed routine to them as they finally convinced Thorin that the ponies would have a better time on the well-travelled road and would get them to their destination half a day earlier, according to the maps. Thorin nodded and got onto his pony ordering everyone to ride. 

No sooner than they had set off into the path than a clang sounded. Everyone whirled around to the noise, hands going towards axes and swords only see Dwalin grumbling as he lent down to pick up his hammer which had fallen and landed on its flat part, handle straight up.

Everyone else seemed frozen and were staring at Thorin with dreading expectant eyes.

To Bilbo’s surprise Thorin whirled his pony around and said, “We are taking the other path!” only to be greeted with grumbling and protests. Thorin shook his head and stubbornly continued to the end of the path and onto the other one ignoring Kili’s cry of, “It’s only a superstition!”

Bilbo blinked and blinked again before giving Gandalf a questioning look as Gandalf snapped, “Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves!” as the company reluctantly turned around to follow Thorin. Bofur taking the chance to swat at Dwalin in aggravation as he passed him.

Gandalf turned his pony around to follow the others as he told Bilbo in as loud a voice as he could so Thorin could hear, “And that, my dear Bilbo, is why anyone in Thorin’s company always gets lost!”

 

**_  
3\. Sharpen an axe in front of night fire, the next day shall be full of dire_ **

The company was exhausted. Taking the longer path had added a day and a half to their journey instead of the predicted half day. Every once in a while someone would grumble and throw accusing looks at Dwalin.

Never to his face of course, otherwise Dwalin would punch them. 

Eventually they settled down for camp, most taking advantage of the stop to take stock of themselves. Mend tears in clothes, rearrange packs, and take stock of supplies and weapons. 

It was with this in mind that Gloin settled down in front of the fire, axe and whetting stone in hand, intent on sharpening his axe after having to hue a few thorny branches that had been in their path.

No sooner had Gloin’s whetting stone made the first pass over the edge of his axe than Thorin’s eyes snapped open from where he had been lying against a tree trunk with a snapped, “Do not do that!”

Gloin paused and stared at Thorin in surprise. “The axe needs sharpening. I won’t be long, if the noise is bothersome.”

Thorin grumbled, “It is not the noise that bothers me. I do not want ill fortune haunting us tomorrow because you did not wait for first light!”

Gloin’s eyes widen in understanding, following by an exasperated and resigned slump in his shoulders as Fili said in as placating a tone as he could manage, “Thorin, surely that is simply a superstition to keep young Dwarves from playing with their axes at night and hurting themselves.”

Thorin did not even spare a glance at Fili as he kept his gaze fixed on Gloin repeating slowly, voice low in warning, “Do not do that at night.”

Gloin nodded his consent before wrapping himself in his skins, attempting not to show his frustration too much, Thorin at the end of the day WAS his King, superstition and all.  
Satisfied that he would be heeded, Thorin Oakenshielf lent back against the tree and closed his eyes. 

 

**_  
4\. Braids uneven, folly beyond reason_ **

Bofur groaned as he rolled over. The argument between Thorin and Bifur had been going on for the better part of the evening. Bifur refusing to indulge Thorin and no amount of cajoling would budge either.

Bofur was tired, he was sleepy and all he wanted to do was get some sleep and allow his aching muscles a rest before it was his turn to take watch. 

However, resting was impossible when a King was growling and his cousin was answering in half understood Khuzdul while gesturing madly. Most likely neither understood the other and the argument would continue till the dawn if allowed.

The final straw; however, was when Kili’s voice piped up and joined the noise with a loud, “But it’s a superstition! Who cares if one of his moustache braids is shorter than the other! You don’t choose what you lose in battle!” 

Bofur sprang up, stalked over with a knife towards the pair. There was a moment of panic from Kili and Fili who thought he had lost his mind and ran to protect their uncle and king only for Bofur to grab the taller moustache braid and cut it to be the same length as the other. 

“There. Even.” He said before stalking back to his bedroll and falling asleep to Bifur’s Khuzdul. Thorin had fallen silent, satisfied, and with half the noise gone, Bofur could finally fall asleep.

 

**_  
5\. Lend a blade with no token, and a friendship shall be broken_ **

Kili cursed softly in frustration. They had barely escaped the Goblin cave, his uncle was still recovering from his injuries sustained during the escape from the Goblin cave, the company was run ragged and he had lost his knife during the escape from the Elven King. 

They paused for the night and he quietly aired his grievances to his brother who put a hand on Kili’s shoulder to steady himself as he pulled one of the knives in his boots. “Here, take one of mine.” He said handing Kili the knife. 

Kili took the knife with a thankful nod and tucked it into his own boot before moving to help set up camp. 

It was later that night, when he was using the knife to carve some wood to pass the time that Thorin frowned at the blade before saying, “That is not your blade.”  
Kili nodded, “It’s Fili’s. Lost mine.” 

Thorin nodded, satisfied, and seemingly settled back before shifting again, “and what token did you give Fili in return?”

Kili paused, brows furrowing, “He’s my brother; we borrow things all the time.”

Thorin gave him a disapproving look, “But not blades. You must give him a token. Our journey has been fraught with misfortune enough without us inviting more!”

Kili was about to start arguing when Dwalin snapped, “Oh for Mahal’s sake, boy! Just give your brother a token!”

The younger Dwarf stood up, vibrating with frustration, he booted his brother awake and shoved a coin at Fili’s bewildered face, snapping, for he was tired and sore and had no humour for superstitions, “Here, brother, a token in place of a lent blade.” Fili stared in confusion before understanding dawned and he turned to his uncle with an incredulous look, “Oh for...! It’s just a superstition!”

Meanwhile Ori whispered to Dori, “Isn’t it too late, giving a token after the fact?” only to be shushed and told to go to sleep.

 

**_  
6\. Do not heed the superstitions, and nothing good shall come to fruition_ **

Thorin Oakenshield and his company of thirteen were in the thick of battle.

He was forced to duck and run from the path of a catapulted rock, his flight took him right by the upturned hammer of a fallen Dwarf. Unable to turn back and seek another way, Thorin was forced to continue on that path as he slashed and parried his way back towards the middle of the battle. 

The previous night had been spent preparing for this day’s battles. Dwarves sitting in front of the fire sharpening axes and knives and swords just beyond their King’s awareness as he had been preoccupied by thoughts of the Arkenstone and his argument with the Hobbit.

Most eager for this battle, for the biggest chance to prove their mettle, had been his nephews. He fought his way to their side just barely saving Fili from beheading as he shoved his nephew out of the way of an orcish blade that took half of Fili’s braids on the right side of his head instead. 

Fili, now on his knees, reached out and snatched one of Kili’s new blades, salvaged from the treasures of Erebor, from where it was tucked in Kili boot and threw it upwards towards the face of the orc who now attempted to take Thorin’s head instead of Fili’s. 

Kili, alerted by the sudden move, turned and spotted what was behind his uncle. He yelled out, “Thorin!” before shoving his uncle out of the way of a troll’s club, the blow snapping his head back as he flew into the back an orc who turned around and stabbed him just as Thorin reached them. 

Enraged, Thorin incoherently yelled out Kili’s name as he hewed the orc’s head off his shoulders and falling to his knees Thorin gathered his nephew into his arms. “Kili, no!” Thorin supported Kili’s head as he lolled back, staring incomprehensibly at the unseeing eyes of his youngest nephew. 

A goblin, seeing his chance ran with the intent of putting a spear into the distracted King’s back only for the spear to find Fili’s chest, the spear imbedding into the earth just by Thorin’s knee. Eyes wide with disbelief, Thorin reached a shaking hand to grip Fili’s sleeve as if by the force of his grip he might cause those eyes to sparkle with life again. 

The rest of the Dwarves were running towards them, their voices, calling out to him, a distant rumble. Thorin gave one soft gasp as Kili was shoved out of his grip. Desperately trying to grab him again Thorin did not notice the blade sticking out his front having been shoved into his back by a triumphant orc who roared at this victory. 

Thorin could barely remember what followed. He had a vague sense of falling to his side, of a tiny figure in front of him, of regret as he muttered, “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But, sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell.” 

His last sense of the world was to fervently hope that Illuvatar would grace the line of Durin with better luck when the Dwarves in Mahal’s halls were called upon to rebuild Middle-Earth after the Final Battle.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Thorin's last line was taken from the book. 
> 
> \- Robert Frost easter egg because poetry is my air.


End file.
